Chapter 2 of Buttercup's Baby
by Gaia Storm
Summary: There wasn't a PB section under the Books category, so that's why this is here. Anyways...it's Chapter 2 of Buttercup's Baby...AND I WROTE IT! LOL I do not have a copy of Buttercup's Baby, nor do I know where you can get one...I just wrote what I thought


2: I'm Going to Write This Thing Then Name the Chapter

Chapter 2: Or Does He?

Humperdinck seethed. He watched from the deck of the first ship in his Armada, _Florin's Wrath_, as the small, wooden boat carrying the four people that he least liked fell apart. Then, he saw them, strapped to the giant. The giant battled his way through the whirlpool. They landed on One Tree Island. And Humperdinck seethed. 

There was no ship that could get through that whirlpool. No one that could swim through it, except the giant. There was no way for the soon-to-be King of Florin to get through to seek his revenge. He knew that Westley and Buttercup would have a child. Sometime. All lovers do. He thought about that child. And he thought about the only way to get his revenge. 

Fezzik was still falling, holding the baby Waverly in his arms. He realized that something was wrong. He should be dead. He opened his eyes slightly, and looked down. The cliff was higher than he thought. The rocks were still far below him. But there was something wrong again. The rocks weren't only below him; they seemed to be behind him as well. Fezzik kept falling. He clutched the infant to his massive body and waited. Waited and hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would miss the rocks. Just maybe he would hit the water. Just maybe he would live. 

And Humperdinck was coming up with his Master Plan. He would send someone, Yellin, maybe, to One Tree. He would have that someone steal Buttercup's baby after he or she was born. And, he would have that someone kill the infant child. He would pretend to hold the child for ransom. His Princess and Westley would come, come to get their precious child, which he wouldn't have. Then, he would kill them, too. There was one thing that he couldn't figure out. How to get that someone to One Tree…

Buttercup stirred in her sleep. She sensed that something was wrong. Out of place. She woke with a start. Her eyes wide, she looked at her companions. There was Westley, still beautiful as ever. There was Inigo, lying there on his side, snoring. She suppressed a laugh. He snored louder. The feeling of _wrongness_ was everywhere. She looked for Fezzik. He was gone. Her stomach tightened as she searched for Waverly, her pride, her joy. The child was gone as well. She searched the bare ground for clues to where they could have gone, and she gasped. There were two sets of footprints…one was Fezzik's. He had been taking giant strides, even for a giant. The other set was made by someone wearing very thick, heavy boots.

Buttercup couldn't breathe. She shook Westley awake. She couldn't speak. He saw his wife's pale face, her shaking hands. She pointed at the footprints. His eyes went wide, his stomach clenched. Someone had stolen their child.

Inigo was in a deep slumber. He was dreaming of Giulietta. He was dreaming of her black eyes, her dark hair. He imagined that day when he had first met her, that day in Piccoli's house, when he told her that he couldn't marry her. How he wanted to hold her in his arms, to run his fingers through her hair, he felt his body reaching to her even as he slept. He was looking into her eyes; still black and full of kindness, when Buttercup shook him roughly awake.

"Inigo! Inigo, please wake up!" She shook harder. "INIGO!" She blared into his ear. He sat bolt upright and cried out. 

"Inigo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, but Fezzik and Waverly are gone!" She sobbed, clutching Westley's arm. Inigo was in shock. Waverly? Fezzik? Gone? How could that be so? He pinched himself, thinking that he was dreaming. The only thing that resulted was a sharp pain. 

"Buttercup…what do you mean…gone?" Inigo looked into her eyes, wishing with all his heart that she were Giulietta, with the black eyes and hair, hair soft as corn silk, eyes kind as those of a kitten…he pulled his thoughts away from her and focused on Buttercup. 

"Gone!" She cried, and pointed at the footprints. Inigo studied the footprints. He was a fencer, not a tracker, but he did recognize one set as Fezzik's. Westley stood.

"We should follow the prints. Try to find Waverly and Fezzik. We should go. Now." He started out the door, Buttercup's head buried in his shoulder, soaking his shirt with her tears. Inigo followed them, thinking. Why would Fezzik take Waverly without telling them? Fezzik didn't like to go out alone at night. But maybe…maybe Fezzik didn't take Waverly. Maybe someone else did. But how was that possible? They were the only ones on the island…except if anyone actually lived in that run down old shack that Buttercup had found hidden deep in the woods…

Humperdinck wrote the letter to the skinless man that lived on One Tree with the request. He tied the letter to the ankle of a messenger pigeon and sent it on its way. The letter basically said that there were four people living on the island. A fencing Spaniard, a lumbering giant, a man dressed in black, and a woman with hair the color of autumn and skin like wintry cream. He asked that when the woman got pregnant, that the skinless man would steal her child and kill it. Then, write back once the deed was done. Prince Humperdinck would pay him. Pay him a lot, but only if he succeeded. If he failed, he would pay Humperdinck. With his life.

The pigeon nearly attacked the skinless man as he stumbled from his shack. He untied the note from the leg of the bird and read it. The Prince would pay him – _him! _- to steal a child. Like taking candy from a baby! He knew that he could run fast. The only thing was…well…how would he kill it? Drown it? Throw it into the whirlpool? Toss it over the cliff edge? Whichever was most convenient at the time, he guessed. He had been watching these people. The woman was already pregnant. She was due within a week. He prayed that she would have the baby sooner. The quicker he got paid, the better…

Westley wound up leaving Buttercup near the base of One Tree's one tree. He couldn't get anywhere with her clutching his arm and sobbing into his shoulder. Inigo still followed him. The fencer was silent…much more than usual. Westley followed the footprints. Soon, they got to the base of a rocky incline. He saw Fezzik's great lumbering footprints suddenly stop. He looked over the edge, but saw nothing. He kept climbing.

And Fezzik finally hit. Water. His bulk had carried him away from the face of the cliff, and away from the rocks, reaching up to impale him like monstrous daggers. The shock from hitting the ice water at high speed knocked all of the breath from his body. His eyes opened and looked up at the surface.He saw the darkness of the night sky, the stars gleaming like gemstones. He had hit the bottom of Florin Channel, the gravel and sharp stones ripping through his shirt. He remembered Waverly. He still held the child. Water filled her lungs. He knew that the one thing that meant the most to him in the world was dieing, dieing, and he didn't have the strength to reach the surface. He was helpless under the water, with the oxygen gone from his body. 

The skinless man watched. How he watched, I do not know, but he watched. The giant did not hit the rocks. He hit the water, but did not surface. The skinless man resolved that he was dead. But, he could not send word to the Prince yet. He must wait until he hears the weeping of the lady once the dark man returns, without the child. Until he hears the muffled sobs of the fencer, the dancer-with-shadows. Until he hears the scream of the dark man, once he realizes that his child, and her giant keeper, has disappeared below the surface of the dark waters forever. Then, and only then, would he send word to the Prince.

Waverly was scared. Fear was one of the emotions that she had never really felt before. She did now. As she felt the strange liquid seep into her body, where there should be air, great, plentiful air, she was more scared than she had ever been. She felt Shade's great arms holding her, and she calmed a little. But why wasn't Shade rising to the surface, where air was waiting to be breathed? She needed air! Her body screamed for it. She opened her mouth to cry, but more liquid made its careless way down her windpipe. She waved her arms and kicked her legs, her infant muscles needing oxygen. Finally, with the blackness entering her mind, she let the water take her.

Fezzik felt the girl-child go suddenly limp in his arms. At first, he felt sadness. Then building anger. And, finally, utter rage. Rage, complete and total rage, was a feeling that the gentle giant had never felt, nor wanted to ever feel again. But, it gave him strength, and with this strength, he began to shift his body, get his non-responding muscles to slowly, very slowly, bring him and Waverly to the surface. He broke through the thin line, the line that separates water and air, and felt a blast of cold. The cold numbed his body, but not his rage. Even exposed to the air, Waverly didn't respond. Fezzik concentrated his remaining strength to get them to shore. His feet touched the sand of the beach, and he collapsed onto the earth, and he felt the rage leave. The peacefulness of advancing death settled in, and, coughing up buckets of water, Fezzik fell unconscious.

Inigo heard a splash. Westley, on the trail in front of him, snapped his head up from the smaller, muddy footprints on the rock face. They both looked around, and Inigo jogged to catch up to his friend. 

"What was that?" Inigo whispered, his eyes wide with a fear that he would never express aloud.

"I don't know. Want to find out?" Westley answered, his voice brave, but his eyes reflecting the same fear that he felt deep in his heart. Inigo was silent. Finally, the Spaniard shrugged, then nodded. Westley smiled half-heartedly and gestured for Inigo to follow him. 

Buttercup sat at the base of the tree, her eyes now dry. The expected parades of What-Ifs were running, hopping, and skipping through her mind. Her heart was clenched in fear, fear of losing her only child and her overly large friend. There must be something that she could do. Anything at all would be helpful. She stood, and instantly tripped over her gown, which was too long. Out of a sudden rush of fury and annoyance, she ripped at the dress, screaming. The fabric tore easily, and when she was done, her gown was considerably shorter and a lot muddier. Proud of herself, she started off towards the shoreline, where she had heard the great splash.

The skinless man raced towards his cabin; guilt, anger, and fear clawing at his mind. He had failed. The giant had surfaced, the child in his grasp. And he had failed. If he wrote to Humperdinck, the Prince would kill him. He didn't know how the Prince would accomplish this feat, considering that no one could reach the island, but the Prince was powerful. He would find a way. He would. And the skinless man would die a painful death, a very painful death. No one failed Prince Humperdinck. There was only one solution. He tore up the crumbling steps of his run-down cabin, and, in his hurry, forgot to open the door. Instead, he crashed into it. He blinked in surprise, shook his head, and then reached for the doorknob. He dashed into the cabin, wrote a hasty letter to the Prince, tied it to the leg of the pigeon, and sent the bird on its way. Then, he ran out of the cabin and to the edge of the cliff. Without a second thought, he hurled himself over the edge. In a few seconds, he hit the rocks, and his battered, lifeless body tumbled into Florin Channel, barely causing a ripple, his spilled blood a dinner bell to the merciless sharks.

The pigeon flew to the castle. Humperdinck saw it circling, searching for a place to land. He reached his hand out the window, whistling to the bird. It alighted on his outstretched arm within seconds. He untied the letter from its leg. The hastily written scrawl was barely legible, and the Prince hunkered over it, squinting. 

"Dear Prince,

I have failed. The child lives. I am very sorry. To save you of your troubles, I am taking my own life. I leave this world swathed in guilt and untold suffering. May your great Florin Channel someday be rid of the stain of the blood that now pollutes it. Sincerely, The Skinless Man of One Tree Island."

The Prince finished reading the letter. He re-read it, not quite believing what he saw. A man dared to fail him. And now there was no way to get his revenge. He sank into a chair. He would have to get to One Tree and do the job himself. But how?

Inigo and Westley raced towards the beach. They dodged trees, rocks, and numerous small shrubs. As their feet hit the sand of the beach, they came to a shrieking halt, almost sliding. There, sprawled on the beach, lay Fezzik and Waverly. Neither moved. They heard the clattering of another pair of shoes and looked around. Buttercup, her gown torn and smeared with mud, burst through the trees. She took one look at the large lump in the sand that was Fezzik, and sank to the ground in tears. Westley moved over to comfort her, and Inigo started towards his seemingly lifeless friend. He knelt by the towering form and turned Fezzik over. Inigo laid his head upon the giant's chest. He heard his heart beating, but barely. He was breathing, but with extremely shallow breaths. Inigo reached for the child. He brought her over to her parents, silent tears streaming down his face. The child wasn't breathing.

Buttercup held her baby. She didn't know what to do. Waverly had swallowed too much water. Westley lifted the child from her mother's arms and cradled her, not even attempting to conceal his grief. Fezzik sat in a corner, bandages on his back where the stones on the bottom of the Channel had cut him. He was silent. Inigo couldn't bear to be inside the small cave. He sat outside, his head between his knees. He felt faint. Suddenly, Buttercup shrieked from inside the cave. Inigo jumped to his feet and dashed inside. Waverly's eyes were open and she was coughing up the water. As the night sky began to turn pink with dawn, Buttercup and Westley sat together, hugging their child, which they had come so close to losing. 

There you go, guys. It isn't great, I know, but what can I say? We need 36-hour days!

_ _

_Gaia/Jess/Spin _J


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